Read The Way of the Blade Online
Authors: Stuart Jaffe
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Epic, #Sword & Sorcery, #Science Fiction, #Post-Apocalyptic, #Magic, #Monsters, #sword, #apocalypse, #Fantasy
“Thank you all for coming when called.” Shual’s voice resonated throughout the hall, commanding attention. “Several of your harvests are upon us, so I truly respect the sacrifice you have made to be here. It is a shame not all of us could heed our call.” Shual frowned at the empty chair between the two women and a murmur fluttered through the crowd. “The problem before us is these two men.” Without looking behind him, Shual flapped a hand towards Fawbry and Tommy. “They have been caught stealing apples from the Tilson Sky Orchard.”
Malja bit back her anger. She had warned the boys to leave the locals alone. The forest provided plenty of food and shelter, and she saw only trouble in dealing with these strangers. Besides, she had not expected them to stay so long. They were supposed to be finding out where Harskill had gone off to, what world he had opened a portal to, so they could catch him.
She had asked Tommy to create small portals and then collapse them quickly. In this way, she hoped to attract the attention of her kind — the world-hopping, do-kha-wearing people known as Gate. Tommy, however, kept sensing intense magic — something more than the magic used to float these islands — and more often than not, he went off into the forest, searching for the source.
“Of course,” Shual went on, “we don’t normally sound the Summoning Horn for a couple of thieves. But as should be evident, these are no ordinary thieves. They are not from among us. They do not wear the garb of any of our neighbors nor of our enemies. So, who are they? What should we do with them? Where should our mercy rest? These are the types of questions I have pondered all day long. These are the questions we must answer now. While I will always listen to your voices, your thoughts, your opinions, I feel it paramount to put forth my own views to begin this discussion.”
Malja had heard enough self-appointed leaders in the past to know that when they started using big words, when they promised to search for mercy and to listen to the little people, the exact opposite would take place.
Shual clasped his wrist behind his back and paced the stage. He spoke as if in a conversation with himself. “As in all things in life, the story of Pali must guide us. Without following her wisdom, we would not have survived this long against our amoral enemy, we would not have discovered the Great Wells, we would have been no more than the foolish, ignorant, vulnerable tribesman of our past. And so, with these difficult questions before us, I turned to her wisdom, and I believe within her story, I have come up with a satisfactory answer.”
Though Shual did not look up at his audience, he had orchestrated their rapt attention with such skill, that Malja found herself as anxious to hear his words as his own people. Shual continued, “Pali found herself in a complicated situation — torn by the love of both Carsite and Scarite. And though the brothers could not come to terms, though their wise father could not help them, though no one knew of a way to break the enchanted bonds of a heart fallen for another, it was Pali who saw the way to end the suffering that would tear these brothers apart. And while her solution was tragic, it was simple and definitive.
“Thus, Pali teaches us that simplicity in all is wisdom defined. The smartest answers are those that cause no complications. Is not truth simpler than managing lies? Is not helping simpler than devising excuses? Are not problems disposed of quickly simpler than problems permitted to fester? I think Pali would look upon our troubles this day and recognize that there is a simple, definitive solution. My humble opinion presented before you is that we treat these criminals as if they had not existed. We put them to death, and the problem of their existence will also die.”
Malja’s hand reached behind and gripped Viper. Staying low, she scuttled toward the back of the hall. There she paused before a staircase.
She pictured her do-kha becoming solid like stone, and she could feel it respond. It would be a layer of armor yet not impede her mobility. Nothing like she had seen Harskill display, but better than before. In fact, ever since learning that her assault suit, her do-kha, could be controlled, she had spent a part of each day attempting to do just that. In two weeks, she had managed minimal success, but it was far better than no success at all.
She inhaled deeply, calmed her blood, readied her mind. The moment she attacked, she expected Tommy to burst out a spell or two. Most spells took concentration and time to cast, but Tommy had a few that would shoot off with speed — nothing damaging, but the display would cause panic and confusion in the crowd. The real harm to the people would be from themselves, shoving and trampling over each other. The most dangerous spot would be anywhere on the main floor. She would have to stop on the second-level balcony, by-pass the madness as she sprinted along the wall, and then jump to the stage. By that time, any police forces these people had would be entering the building, then the real fight would begin.
“Wait,” a bold voice called out. “I will speak.”
As Malja inched back to the railing, she heard Shual grumbling. “Cantolista, you may speak.”
A large man pushed through the crowd to the edge of the stage. Like many of the men Malja observed here, his skin looked dark as charred wood. Wearing his robe open to reveal his muscular physique, he removed his hat with a respectful bow. “Please,” he said, “Cantolista is far too formal. Call me Canto.”
Subdued laughter filtered through the crowd. Even Shual grinned. Malja didn’t understand why this amused everyone, but she understood the locked eyes between Canto and the young lady sitting on the end of the row of chairs.
“Soralia,” Shual snapped, and the lady raised her head, smiled at Canto, and tapped the brim of her hat.
Though he had removed his hat, Canto mimed the gesture in return, and then faced the crowd. “My friends, Shual is a wise man and deserves our respect. I have no doubt that he labored long and weighed many tough thoughts on what to do with these thieves. I have not had the same luxury of time, but I do believe that there are better ways to handle this problem, ways that will not put our families at risk the way Shual’s plan will do.”
Shual puffed up his old chest. “My plan protects us all. It disposes of the problem immediately. No problem means no threat.”
“All here know I have no desire to argue with you,” Canto said, placing his hand on Shual’s shoulder in a sincere, nonpolitical gesture. “But you know that I respect you too greatly to lie when I do not agree. Please, listen to what I have to say. Then make your judgment.”
Shual placed his hand on his stomach and backed off. The audience’s held breath released, and Canto received even greater attention than before.
Canto stood firm in the center of the stage. “What Shual has told you all is true — Pali guides us to be simple in our approach to problems. But of the three Great Islands, ours is not named Pali. We live on Carsite. And from Carsite’s part of the story, we can learn even more. When Carsite first saw Pali in the market, when his heart instantly tied to hers, he knew no other would be for him. But, of course, this held true for his brother, Scarite, who had seen Pali at the same time. Scarite was the first to do wrong when he lied to Carsite. A minor act, but one that led to such tragedy. And here, my friends, is where we must focus. For had Carsite realized that to act as he did, to attack Scarite back, would only make the matter worse and turn his brother into his enemy, then perhaps the story would have ended differently.
“We have the chance here, now, to do better than our namesake. We Carsites must not destroy these new faces. For they are not alone. They came from somewhere, and in that place more of their kind will live. Any action we take must keep in mind that these unseen people will react, one way or another, to what we do. Punish the thieves, surely, but make them allies not enemies.” He paused and made eye contact with several of the closest in the audience. With a casual gesture, he added, “Surely, the Scarites are enemy enough.”
The crowd began talking heavily amongst themselves as Canto stepped back. With a flourish of his hand, he gestured to Shual that he had finished speaking, but Shual did not step forward. His face had screwed tight in thought.
He’s seriously considering the counter-argument. Amazing.
Malja watched a few moments longer but nothing changed. The crowd continued their discussions, Canto continued to wait patiently, and Shual continued to think. For Malja, there was no longer a need to think. These people were thoughtful, careful, and serious. Perhaps she could save Fawbry and Tommy without bloodshed.
With a spin of Viper, she returned the blade to its sheath on her back and walked down the stairs to the bottom floor. The shocked faces that stared at her mingled fear with disbelief. Not quite the reaction she had expected, but good enough.
They parted before her, creating a path straight to Shual on the stage. Fawbry’s eyes brightened when he saw her, and Tommy smiled. Shual, however, gaped as if Malja stood twenty feet tall and breathed fire.
Moving far faster than Malja thought possible of the old man, Shual dropped to his knees and lowered his head to the stage. Canto’s shocked eyes darted from Shual to Malja, then his face opened in startled understanding. He, too, dropped to the stage.
With that, every man, woman, and child fell to their knees and bowed their head to the floor. Malja looked to Tommy and Fawbry. They shrugged. But Fawbry smiled.
Chapter 2
Javery
Javery clutched Druzane’s full breasts, tightening his bony fingers until she winced. Then he buried his scruffy mouth between them as he plunged deeper inside her. Having sex was nothing new, but something about Druzane ignited a raging animal within him. Each time they engaged in a kiss, he promised himself that he would not rush things, that he would be passionate and loving, romantic and caring. Yet in mere seconds, he jumped upon her, smelled her earthy skin, tasted her salty sweat, and wanted to devour her. And whenever she grappled back, taking from him as much as he sought to take from her, they both became sweating, panting, lustful animals.
She rolled him over fast, and he whipped out his hand to stop them from going too far. They were atop a thirty-five foot high, eight foot wide structure he called a Waypoint. Huge prongs of rock surrounded them like enormous, stone fingers pointing to the sky at every angle. If they fell, they would be severely injured, at best, and no amount of yelling for help would work — they were three miles from town.
Druzane straddled him, her robes rolled around her hips. She reached down, placed him inside her again, and arched back, her breasts taking in the sun like a golden statue of Pali. “Sometimes I think if we keep doing this, they’ll be nothing left of me.” It was a common enough bedroom expression, but from her mouth, the words sounded sincere.
Javery rested his hands on her thighs and stopped her from moving.
Lucky
barely described how she made him feel. He had no illusions about himself. His nose poked out too far, and despite the mounds of food his mother had provided over the years, he could not eat enough to bulk up his skeletal body. Yet an astonishing woman rode him. A cool breeze prickled their skin. “You are a phenomenal work of art.”
“You’re only saying that because I control every important inch of you. You’ll forget all about me being so wonderful in a few minutes.”
“Minutes? I planned to do this for at least another hour.”
Druzane laughed — a hearty, healthy sound. “You’re a bold man, my dear, sweet Jave. And that’s the best thing of all. It takes a bold man to accomplish what you’ve set out to do.”
He tried not to look irritated. He understood why she felt so insecure. But it had become a tiresome duty to constantly be reassuring her of their future together.
She must have seen it on his face. “I’m sorry,” she said while she raised and lowered her hips a few incredible times. “I know I can be a foolish, little girl at times. It’s so amazing, though. Please tell me it all again.” She pressed hard against him, and he let out a groan. “Tell me all about the Waypoints and how they will make us never have to worry in life.”
Javery reached for her breasts again. “Let’s finish this first.”
Slapping his hands away, Druzane put on a cute pout. “Tell me what I need to hear, or you’ll have to finish this on your own.”
“Okay. You make the rules.”
“That’s right. So start talking.”
He chuckled. Talking about his ambitions heightened her sexual experience, while talking about work prolonged his. He patted the structure below him. “This simple thing is going to change all the lives of our people. Since magic was discovered, we’ve used it for such simple things, and nobody has really experimented to see what we could accomplish from the Great Well.”
“But you’re going to.”
“I already have. Look over the right side. That half-circle of metal sticking out is the key. I’ve infused it with magic, but instead of using the magic to cause it to float, I’ve done something different.”
“I know you have.” She started to rise and fall again, letting out her own groan of pleasure.
“When a similar piece of metal goes by, the Waypoint arm repels it and shoves it on at a very fast rate. Put another Waypoint down the line, and another and another.” She moved faster now, letting him guide her pace as his own excitement grew. He went on, “Build enough Waypoints and we can move people and supplies from town to town in hours instead of days.”